


catch me i'm falling

by zhennie



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Buried Alive, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26037772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhennie/pseuds/zhennie
Summary: +4 hoursItaru wakes up in darkness with a throbbing headache. What happened? Where is he? His hand clenches, and he realizes that he's holding a flip phone.He opens it, clicking through the menus. There's nothing, except for one number. Itaru dials."...hello?"
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	catch me i'm falling

_ +15 hours _

Itaru can’t breathe. 

He doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, or if his body actually is beginning to scramble for air, and that makes Itaru want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation--if laughing wouldn’t just deprive him of air quicker. 

He’s watched this movie before--a kidnapping, a mysterious location, a victim trapped somewhere until they run out of air and suffocate to death. GG, Itaru thinks, what a way to go. To have this, of all things, happen to him, of all people, in real life is truly an SSR-level event. 

Itaru leans back against the wall he had been sitting against, his head hitting the metal. It’s cool against his head, which is nice. His body feels heavy, and his eyelids shut, naturally. It would be easy, he thinks, to fall asleep right then. Ah, but isn’t that a trap? Sleeping is always a trap, when it comes to scenarios like this. Itaru forces his eyes open at that, but his head tilts forwards, heavy as he glances down at his hands, pale and weak in his lap. 

Despite everything, the flip phone is still clutched loosely in his hands. Of all the things that had happened to him today, this is still the thing that has Itaru the most annoyed. They couldn’t even have done him the courtesy of putting Tetris, or Snake, on the phone. He’s instead had to cycle through every mindless activity that he used to do before mobile games, from recreating his favorite theme songs in ringtone form to creating his own emojis. 

But Itaru has long since run out of energy to continue doing either of those things, and he feels himself running out of energy again now. 

“Ah,” Itaru says, his voice loud in the silence, “my HP is low, isn’t it.”

He thinks about the outside world. What time is it? Are the students coming back from school? Is Omi trying out some new recipe? What triangles has Misumi found today? What fights are Banri and Juza having? He wonders if he’ll get to find out.

Itaru’s eyes drift shut.

_ -96 hours _

It’s the way that Itaru shifts that wakes Chikage up, and he opens his eyes to see Itaru sitting up, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Chigasaki?” Chikage asks, and Itaru jumps, turning to look at Chikage, his eyes wide and the moonlight reflecting light off the tear tracks on his face. Chikage sits up immediately, his hands coming up to wipe at them, smudging them so they no longer form clean lines down his face. 

“Ah, Senpai,” Itaru says, with a little half-hearted smile.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Chikage asks. 

“No...yes...” Itaru confesses, and turns his face away, embarrassed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Itaru is silent, with Chikage’s fingers still resting on his cheeks. The silence stretches on, and Chikage begins to pull his hand away, but Itaru stops him suddenly, his own hand coming to grab at Chikage’s wrist, keeping him in place.

“It’s not that I want or don’t want to talk about it,” Itaru says, “it just...it’s like a blind box, you know? You pick it, not knowing what’s inside, but you take a leap of faith. You hope your best girl is in there, but until you open the box, you don’t actually know. If you open the box, there’s the possibility of disappointment. But if you don’t open the box, you’re left wondering what’s inside.” Itaru lowers his hand, still holding Chikage’s wrist. 

“You’re not thinking about a blind box,” Chikage says. Itaru squeezes Chikage’s hand in admonishment. 

“You could at least pretend to spare my feelings,” Itaru replies. Chikage shifts, freeing his wrist from Itaru’s hands gently to pull him towards him in an embrace. 

“You don’t have to open the box yet, if you don’t want to,” Chikage replies, “I’m in no rush. I’ll be here in the meantime.” 

“Promise?” Itaru asks. In the darkness, in the time of the night that Chikage has always felt the most comfortable with, he holds Itaru again, and replies.

“Promise.” 

_ -4 hours _

“Ehhhhh,” Itaru complains, leaning back in his office chair. He isn’t ashamed to be pouting up at Chikage, who gives him a smug little smirk from where he is leaning against the edge of Itaru’s desk.

“Sorry,” Chikage says, not sounding sorry at all, adding on, “this wouldn’t have happened if you had just finished the project earlier in the week.” 

“I couldn’t,” Itaru continues to pout, “you know it was the--” He pauses, looking around to make sure no one was listening before he leans in and finishes, “--the last day of the event. The only reason I beat Banri was because I got home early and he had workshop.” 

“Well,” Chikage says, “now I’m going home early, and you have overtime.” 

“Ughh,” Itaru complains again, “you’re so unromantic, Senpai! You’re not even gonna offer to stay with me while I finish?” 

“Nope,” Chikage replies, “not even for an uncute junior. I’ll make sure they save you some curry for dinner when you get home, though.” He pushes off the edge of Itaru’s desk, letting his fingers trail across Itaru’s shoulder lightly as he makes his way back to his floor and desk to pack up and go home.

“I don’t want that!” Itaru calls after him.

_ +2 hours _

“Hello, April,” the voice says when Chikage picks up the phone, a sharp barb on the tip of his tongue ready to tease Itaru for being still stuck at work, “would you like to play a game?” 

_ -37 hours _

They wake up naturally for once, which is surprising. As much as Itaru stays up until 3 AM and loves to sleep in, he’s a light sleeper, and as for Chikage...well, one of the many quirks that his training had left him with was the ability to go from fast asleep to completely awake in a matter of seconds. But there’s none of the usual faint ruckus when Chikage opens his eyes, blinking once, twice as his vision clears. The sun is already high in the sky--they must really have slept in. As always, he reminds himself of who he is (Utsuki Chikage), where he is (Room 103, the Mankai Company dorms), and what he is (a businessman, an actor).

Chikage shifts, turning to see the rest of the room. Itaru is lying in bed still as well, phone lifted up over his face. It can’t be a comfortable position to keep for long, but then again, Itaru has always been willing to endure a lot when it came to his games .Chikage keeps watching, as Itaru’s nose scrunches up, and he lowers the phone, bringing it closer to his face and squinting--probably to read some new flavor text or dialogue or something.

“Just put on your glasses, Chigasaki,” Chikage says, and Itaru startles, yelping as he drops the phone onto his face. 

“Jeez, Senpai, you startled me!” Itaru scowls, grabbing his phone off his face and rubbing his nose--still scrunched up.  _ Cute _ , Chikage thinks, though he’ll never say that out loud. 

“You’re just going to ruin your eyes,” Chikage continues, “so put on your glasses and stop squinting.” 

“My eyes are already ruined,” Itaru grumbles, pushing himself up into a sitting position, blankets falling to pool around his waist. He squints again, and then adds, suspiciously, “how can you see me from over there?” 

“Because I put on my glasses when I look at my phone,” Chikage shoots back, sitting up as well and feeling around for his own glasses. The view of the room doesn’t change when he puts them on, but just the motion is enough to put the suggestion in Itaru’s mind, and Itaru fumbles around in his sheets before he finds his own glasses, jamming them on his face. His nose is still a little red from having his phone drop on it and his own rubbing, and again, Chikage thinks--but doesn’t say-- _ cute _ .

“There,” Itaru says, and jabs at his phone to unlock it, already halfway back to immersed in his games. Chikage watches him, the way Itaru’s hair sticks up and his frown and the way he jabs at the screen, determined. 

“Let’s get lunch,” Chikage says. 

“Now?” Itaru asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Isn’t it lunchtime?” Chikage replies. Itaru wrinkles his nose, but lowers his phone, and Chikage presses on. 

“I’ll treat you,” he says. 

“Is it going to be spicy?” Itaru asks, suspicious. 

“I promise it will be something that even you can handle,” Chikage says, pushing off his covers completely and making his way out of bed. 

“Is it going to be  _ curry _ ?” Itaru presses, but again, the suggestion of Chikage getting up and getting dressed leads him to get out of bed as well, phone forgotten for now.

Of course, by the time they actually get out the door, Itaru is checking on his apps again, and it’s up to Chikage to drive them out. He doesn’t mind, though. There’s something familiar and comforting about the sound of 2D girls cheering Itaru on layered over the sound of the engine running--a strange combination, perhaps, but comforting to Chikage in how it’s unlike anything else he’s ever known. It reminds him of who he is now, and of everything he had gone through to get here. 

When they get to the restaurant, Itaru pauses as he gets out of the car. He stands there, with one hand resting lightly on top of the door as he turns slowly, and his eyebrows knit together as he tracks something in the distance.

“What is it?” Chikage asks, turning to follow Itaru’s gaze.

“Ah--nothing, I think,” Itaru says, “must have been my imagination.”

_ +2 hours _

Who can he call? What favors is he owed? Who will help him, April, the asset with a revealed weakness? Chikage has never regretted the moment he decided that he was going to become an actor and prioritize Utsuki Chikage over April--until this very second, standing in the hallway of Mankai’s dorms with his phone still clutched in his hand and his mind racing. 

His heartbeat is ticking faster. It’s one thing to logically know what is happening to your body, and another thing to stop it from happening. He needs to calm down. He’s no use to anyone like this, and absolutely no use to Itaru like this. 

Think. Think. He has to think. What was the use of training every natural reaction out of his body if he couldn’t put those tricks to use when he needed them most.  _ Think _ . He’s working with no information, a completely blank file.  _ Blind box _ , Chikage thinks, a little wildly.

The Organization will ask questions, if he pulls from their resources. Chikage hasn’t really bothered to keep up with any of his personal resources, since joining Mankai. 

“Chikage-san?” It’s the Director, looking concerned as she approaches him. Who can he call? What favors is he owed? Who will help him, Utsuki Chikage, the actor? 

“Director,” Chikage says, “I need your help.”

_ 0 hours _

Finally, Itaru is  _ done _ . He raises his arms above his head, stretching and letting out a pleased noise. He should hurry up and go home, he thinks, and make the most of the rest of his night. Maybe he’ll order pizza. He deserves it, after having to stay this long. 

Quickly, Itaru packs up, yawning as he makes his way down all the floors and out the door. He thinks about texting Chikage again, and if Banri will be up for playing a few rounds of that new platformer, and if he should stop by the convenience store on the way home and---

“Chigasaki Itaru?” a gruff voice asks. Itaru frowns, turning towards it.

“Yes?” Itaru asks. Something hits him, hard and merciless, across the head.

Itaru crumples.

_ +4 hours _

The phone rings again. 

Chikage looks down at his phone, the caller ID declaring a blocked number, and he answers it without hesitation, a snarl and a threat ready on the tip of his tongue.

“...hello?”

It’s Itaru. 

“Chigasaki,” Chikage says instead, and his voice hitches on the syllables of his name, like someone had taken a sword and sliced the name neatly into two uneven pieces. 

“Senpai!” Itaru’s yell is loud in Chikage’s ear, laced with what Chikage can only assume is the relief that comes from hearing a familiar voice.

“Chigasaki, are you okay?” Chikage presses, “where are you?” 

“I...don’t know,” Itaru confesses, “the last thing I remember was complaining about you leaving me at the office, and then I woke up here.” 

“Where’s here?” Chikage asks, “tell me what you see.” 

“Um,” Itaru says, “nothing, really. It’s dark. I think--” he pauses, and Chikage hears the sound of knocking before Itaru speaks again, “--yeah. It’s a metal box.” 

“Did you hear anything?” Chikage continues to ask. Any detail is helpful, right now. If he presses his ear close to the phone, he can hear faint, rhythmic thumps--where is Itaru?

“Well…” Itaru says, his voice hesitating again, and then he giggles, the kind of laugh that tilts at the end in hysterics, “I think they’re throwing dirt on top of this box. Senpai, I think they’re burying me alive.” 

_ +9 hours _

They’re not agents of the Organization, and this is apparent. But what they lack in training, they make up for in manpower and determination. There are troupe members piecing together a timeline, troupe members watching as much security camera footage as Chikage could get, troupe members mapping out potential locations. Citron and Misumi have been sent out to make use of their neighborhood gossip networks. 

Itaru, over the phone, had provided what other information he could gleam from what he could sense around him, which, frustratingly, wasn’t a lot. But then again, Itaru had never been trained on what to do and what to pay attention to during a kidnapping. And that’s not true of just him. 

There is a limit to what the rest of Mankai is able to do, however much ingenuity and determination they show, but there’s some things Chikage can only do on his own. 

He walks into the warehouse base that Sakyo had found the address for, after Guy and Tasuku had narrowed down the location of, after hearing the descriptions of the troublemakers that had upset one of the vegetable stall aunties Citron was friends with. 

The muscle in there falls silent, as Chikage smiles, vicious and not at all polite. 

“I think you have something that doesn’t belong to you,” he says, and then throws himself forwards with his fists clenched for Itaru’s sake.

_ +15 hours _

Itaru feels himself tipping over, but it’s a disconnected feeling, like the body that is crumpling isn’t, in fact, his body, but something he’s seeing through a screen. Itaru has looked at so many screens throughout his life, and always thought,  _ I wish I could break this barrier and enter this world _ . Well, here he is. Barrier broken, and all it needed was his HP bar to hit zero. He’s in a place that he’d always desired to reveal.

He feels himself inhale--a deep inhale, his body scrambling for something that it can’t seem to obtain--and there is a loud bang hitting the top of the box, the feeling of it reverberating throughout the whole structure. The roof is wrenched open, letting light spill into the box and dirt spill onto Itaru’s hair. 

He inhales, a deep, twisted, ugly gasp, and the flip phone clatters out of his hand.

“Itaru,” Chikage says, and Itaru turns his head to look up into the light.

_ -1 hour _

His phone pings with a new LIME message, and Chikage looks down at it, a smile and a laugh on his face. 

_ Don’t think you’re going to get away with this, Senpai!!! _ Itaru has sent, with a cute little mad sticker to boot. Chikage gives a little laugh, and abruptly, he turns, making a detour to head to a gaming store he’s come with Itaru to many times before. Vaguely, Chikage thinks he might be spoiling Itaru. Ah, well. It’s just a blind box.

_ +29 hours _

Itaru wakes up to the sound of beeping machines and shuffling footsteps, blinking into full consciousness just in time to see Chikage lean over, his face unusually soft as he reaches out, brushing Itaru’s bangs out of his face.

“Welcome back, Chigasaki,” Chikage says. 

“Thanks for the assist,” Itaru replies, closing his eyes again briefly to savor the feeling of Chikage’s hand on his forehead.

“How do you feel?” Chikage asks.

“Fine,” Itaru replies, and Chikage frowns at that. 

“I’m serious, Itaru,” Chikage says, and Itaru raises his own hand, pushing his fingers into Chikage’s lips, as if to physically stop the words from coming out. 

“So am I,  _ Chikage _ ,” Itaru says. He lets his hands drop, after a few seconds, and Chikage pulls back, leaving Itaru to mourn the loss of his body heat before Chikage pulls one of the room chairs closer, sitting down and pulling Itaru’s hand to his. 

“Here,” Chikage says, placing something in his open palm, and Itaru looks down, blinking.

“Eh? This is from that limited edition Knights of Round blind box figure set.” Itaru says, turning it in his hands as his face lights up. He gives the box a little shake, concentrating to see if he can figure out who is inside.

“You can open it,” Chikage says, “if you want to.” Itaru pauses, giving it another turn in his hand.

“Yeah,” Itaru says, without much further explanation, and neatly rips open the cardboard, and tears open the opaque plastic baggie, revealing Gawain, tumbling out into his waiting hand. 

“Is that what you were hoping for?” Chikage asks. Itaru smiles, and reaches to interlace his fingers with Chikage’s. 

**Author's Note:**

> title is from next to normal and i was listening to next to normal when i came up with this concept. this fic has nothing to do with next to normal.
> 
> i had such trouble writing this for some reason. i'm really glad it's done. please forgive any time inaccuracies or scientific inaccuracies.
> 
> thank you to lily and kuro for betaing.


End file.
